mr electric disappears and re-appears like a smiling/snarling phantom
dawn: wooing the blue from the Crawling Eyes of babies
midday: vanished grinning through the sweat pores of harlots and whores
sundown: opening a cloak of tentacles
preaching the gospel of cracked crystal beaks
dusk: peeling back the birth skin like wrapping paper around a virgin
vanish again
twilight: march on electric children!
and you, with your self righteous army of crotches spewing paper children,
his death hole is deeper
and stronger than love